The Wild Seed (11 page)

‘I must settle some money on Catherine, it’s only fair.’ He didn’t look at her so he didn’t see the fleeting look of relief cross her face.

‘Is that all? It’s your money, Boyo, you must do what you wish with it.’

‘But it’s yours, too and our child’s.’ He turned to look at her. ‘So you don’t mind, then?’

She minded, of course she minded, the gesture meant that this girl was still a large part of his life and would continue to be so for some time to come.

‘I don’t object.’ She spoke in measured tones. ‘There is enough money between the two of us to keep half the county. If you chose to give some of it away then that is your right.’

‘Her father is sick, very sick, he needs specialist care.’ He sat down opposite her and leaned forward, looking into his glass. ‘Jamie O’Conner was very good to me when I … well, a long time ago. I feel I owe it to him and to the family to do my best for him now.’

The feeling of relief spread into a glow, this she could understand, it was no more than the repaying of a debt. She smiled at him.

‘You are a good, kind man, Boyo Hopkins.’

He shook his head. ‘
Duw
, don’t talk such rubbish.’

Bethan concealed a smile, he was touched by her praise, that was evident by the way he slipped into the Welsh tongue. She realized suddenly that his gaze was fixed upon her, she looked up and met his eyes.

‘I’m sorry for the mess I’ve made of things, Bethan.’ He took a drink. ‘Are people gossiping about me, about my “love-nest” with a farm girl?’

Bethan answered him honestly. ‘There has been gossip but then people are quite used to the notion of a wealthy gentleman taking a mistress from the lower orders.’

She saw him flinch. ‘I’m from “the lower orders” myself, or have you forgotten?’

‘Yes, I had forgotten, you were a rich man when I met you, Boyo, a successful businessman and that’s how I think of you. I was not looking down on such people, I do assure you, I was just stating the facts as the people of our good town would see them.’

‘I know.’ He rose to his feet and she knew that he was about to take refuge in his den. She held out her hand.

‘Boyo, I have felt him move, our child.’ She took his hand and drew it towards her stomach. ‘There, feel him kick.’

An expression of amazement appeared on Boyo’s face. ‘That’s miraculous!’ He smiled down at her. ‘He’s going to be a good strong chap, this son of ours.’

Bethan felt a feeling of euphoria settle over her, she was going to give Boyo what no-one else in the world could give him: a legitimate heir. It was a tenuous thread, she was wise enough to know that when a man is young and the sap is rising, passion takes precedence over all, but passion had a habit of fading. All she had to do was be patient and, one day, Boyo would be all hers again.

Catherine lay in the warmth of Boyo’s arms and breathed in the scent of him. Her heart ached with love even as her body responded to his touch. She had not realized that she could feel such depth of emotion. It was more than passion, more than love even, it was the sense of belonging with this man that was so strong a bond between them.

‘Cat, my lovely girl.’ He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her throat and then his mouth moved to her breasts. Her nipples were proud, pressing against the heat of his mouth. He swung her round so that she was above him, his hardness deep within her. ‘I’m your slave, Cat, I’ll always be your slave.’

She closed her eyes, her head thrown back as she moved softly at first and then with growing passion. Beneath her hands were the firm contours of his chest, she felt his heart beat and then she was riding on the moon; the stars were within her head, within her senses, driving her on desperately to reach the glittering peak of her excitement. The explosion of sensations shuddered through her, tingling in her belly and up to her head. She bent over him, making little sounds of pleasure, kissing his mouth, her hair hanging over his face.

He turned her over onto her back and then he was bringing her fresh delights; she cried out, feeling she would die from the rush of joy that seemed almost painful in its intensity. ‘Boyo, Boyo, I love you so much.’

Afterwards, they lay quietly side by side in the great bed, the hours passing in dreaming and whispers and sometimes in snatches of sleep. Catherine’s limbs remained twined around his, her face against Boyo’s heart. The beating was rapid, loud in her ears. She felt privileged to enjoy such happiness, such fulfilment and yet she knew the magic must end, he would rise, go to the bathroom and then he would be making for home and for his wife.

‘Cat,’ he said softly and it was as if he sensed her thoughts. ‘I must go soon but there’s something I want to say first. Now, don’t be angry or offended but I’ve opened a bank account in your name. Please don’t say anything, I have so much money that I don’t know what to do with it. Your father, he was good to me once – a long time ago, this is perhaps the only way I can repay him.’

Catherine was silent, was this his way of telling her it was over, of paying her off? ‘Are you saying goodbye, Boyo?’ She asked, her voice suddenly hard. He sat up and looked down at her in exasperation.

‘Why is it that I am misunderstood at every turn?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Look, I told Bethan what I was going to do, to give you some money of your own. She thought I was going to leave her. Now this from you. Women! I’ll never understand them.’

Catherine suddenly saw the funny side of it. Boyo sitting up in bed naked, his hair tangled over his forehead like that of a small boy and a bewildered look on his face, trying to do his best in what must be a very difficult situation.

‘If you’ll never understand women, how is it you have two in your life?’ She fell back on the pillow and tears rolled down her cheeks and she wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying.

‘You vixen, I ought to give you a good spanking.’ He held her close and kissed her mouth gently. ‘I love you, Cat, I’ll never say goodbye to you, I promise. But I cannot abdicate my responsibilities at home either, not now. All I can do is my best and the two women in my life will have to take it or leave it.’

‘I know.’ She nuzzled close to him. ‘I’m a harridan and a nag. Thank you for the money, it’s a kind thought.’

‘But you won’t use it, not even to try to cure your father?’ He read her well.

‘No, I won’t use it. As for curing Dad, I accept now that it isn’t possible. He’s sick unto death, he has had enough and he’s ready to die, he’s told me so. Mam thinks I don’t realize how bad Dad is but I realize, oh, I realize only too well.’ There was a catch in her throat and suddenly her happiness had evaporated. She clung to Boyo.

‘How am I going to face it? I can’t imagine life without my father.’ She caught her breath. ‘And Mam, she will be lost and alone. We both have more than our share of responsibility and, like you, I feel all I can do is my best, to share myself out between you all.’

‘What we mustn’t do is quarrel between ourselves,’ Boyo said softly. ‘I do not want to add to your troubles. My only worry is that I can’t spend as much time as I want to with the only woman I will ever love.’

Catherine clung to him feeling warmed and comforted by his words. He loved her, that was a knowledge she must hold to her in the dark days that were to come.

Liam was standing near the gate when Catherine returned to Honey’s Farm, waiting for her seemed to have become a habit with him. She looked into his face anxiously.

‘Dad, is he worse?’

‘He’s just the same, colleen, no change at all.’ He began to walk beside her along the path. ‘It’s just the feeling in the house, the oppression, it gets to me sometimes, all the pain of it,’

She took his hand. ‘You are a very nice, very sensitive man, Liam,’ she said softly. He gripped her hand tightly.

‘Sure and don’t I know that without you telling me? I’m a handsome buck into the bargain and you should be glad to be seen with a fine fellow like me.’

‘Seen with you?’ Catherine asked unable to resist a smile at his cheek.

‘Yes, seen with me, have you forgotten we are going to the fair tomorrow?’

She looked at him doubtfully. ‘Do you think we should, Liam? I mean perhaps it would be better if we stayed with Mam.’

‘Positively not,’ Liam said. ‘Uncle Jamie was on to me about it only this evening. “Taking my girl to the fair tomorrow, aren’t you, giving her a bit of a break?” That’s what he said.’

Catherine could well believe it, her dad was the sort of man who thought about the feelings of others, he probably realized she needed to laugh a little now and again to lighten the burden his sickness placed on her.

‘Yes, then, we shall go to the fair. Satisfied?’ She smiled up at him and behind him the sun was going down, highlighting the red of his hair. He really was a handsome man, why couldn’t she have fallen in love with him she asked herself not for the first time.

‘I could grow on you.’ Liam spoke as if he had heard her thoughts. ‘We could make a good marriage and in time you would come to love me. What girl could resist me for long?’

She shook her head. ‘No, Liam, I am in love with Boyo Hopkins, I am his mistress whether you like it or not. I know I can’t be his wife but then I have something his wife does not have, his love.’

Liam stopped walking and put his hands on her arms. ‘Are you sure, love?’ He asked softly and there was no censure in his voice. ‘Men say all sorts of things, make promises, will do anything when they want a woman as beautiful as you.’

‘Liam, I know you mean well but don’t worry about me. I’m not a child, I know what I’m doing and I know Boyo loves me. I don’t have to prove that to anyone else.’

He sighed and drew her against his shoulder and held her gently, his chin resting on her hair.

‘Well, I’m in love with you, Catherine O’Conner, and I can’t help that. I think I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you, first your photograph had me spellbound and then the sight of you in that hotel; so fresh, so lovely, how could I help loving you? I believe we are meant to be together.’ He held up his hand as she made to protest.

‘I won’t put any pressure on you but I will be here if ever you need me. Come on, give me a hug.’

She was happy to rest in his arms for a few moments, gathering her strength to go into the house. ‘Liam,’ her voice was muffled, ‘I’m glad to have you for a friend but that is all that can ever be between us.’

When Catherine made her way into the kitchen, Fon was dozing in her chair, the pages of
The Swansea Times
strewn on the floor around her feet. She looked so young suddenly, so defenceless, that Catherine had the strangest feeling that they had changed places, she had become the strong one, the mother figure, and Fon the child.

She knelt on the floor and put her arms around her mother holding her close. ‘Mam,’ she said softly, ‘come on, let me take you up to bed, you’re exhausted.’

Fon leaned sleepily against her shoulder and Catherine felt a wave of protective love sweep over her. Fon needed her, needed her more than anyone in the world right now.

‘I’ll have a cup of tea first, love.’ Fon stirred and leaned away from Catherine. She looked up, her eyes were brimming with tears. ‘Oh, Catherine, I’m so afraid.’

‘I know, I know.’ Catherine rocked her mother to and fro, her eyes closed, a sense of despair and inadequacy rising within her.

She heard Liam build up the fire and then the scrape of the kettle against the coals. He was a good man and she was grateful to him but that was all she could offer him, her gratitude.

The water in the kettle, already warmed on the hob came swiftly to the boil. Liam moved about the kitchen quietly and efficiently and then Catherine heard the scrape of a chair on the flags.

‘Right, you two idle women,’ he said cheerfully, ‘come and have this cup of tea before it goes cold.’

Fon looked up and smiled through her tears. ‘You are a good boy, Liam. I’m so glad you’re here, I don’t know what we would do without you, love.’

‘I know, as I keep telling Catherine here, I’m indispensable and a fine handsome man to boot and tomorrow I am taking Catherine to the fair in town. I think I deserve a kiss from my Auntie Fon for such devotion to duty.’

Fon rose from her chair and crossed to where Liam was sitting and hugged him warmly. ‘I’d have known anywhere that you came from the same stock as Jamie, you are so like him.’

‘And that’s the highest praise any man could ask for.’ Liam reached up and touched Fon’s hair and for a moment, their eyes locked. It was, Catherine thought, as if the two of them were drawn together in a conspiracy and she knew full well what that conspiracy was.

Well, they could plan and plot but much as she loved her mam, she could not marry Liam, ever. The both of them would have to accept that sooner or later.

‘Drink your tea.’ Liam nodded towards Catherine as Fon released him, ‘Come on, both you girls could do with a bit of warming up, you are as pale as little day-old chicks the pair of you.’

There was silence in the kitchen except for the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the shifting of coals in the grate. Catherine became aware that Fon was reluctant to go to the bed she shared with Jamie, fearing he would die in the night and leave her alone.

‘I’ll go and see to Dad.’ She rose with a sense of purpose, ‘I’ll make sure he’s comfortable and settled for the night.’

Fon glanced at her gratefully. ‘There’s a good girl.’ The relief in her voice was almost tangible. Catherine squared her shoulders and moved to the door and Liam’s quietly spoken words followed her.

‘If you need any help, colleen, just call me.’

It was dark in her father’s room and Catherine lit the lamp and watched as the soft light spilled over the bed. Jamie’s eyes were open and he forced a smile as he looked at her. She sat carefully on the bed beside him. ‘Do you need anything, Dad?’ She touched his hand, his skin was dry and hot.

‘I need the privie, Catherine.’ He sounded apologetic. She smiled.

‘You don’t need to worry, Dad, there’s a chamber under the bed, I’ll get it for you.’ She scrambled on her knees beneath the bed and drew out the china chamber-pot. She helped her father swing his trembling legs over the side of the bed and then attempted to draw him to his feet.